


i feel so stupid, i feel abused

by grace13star



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream SMP Roleplay, Rust (Video Game), SBI Rust - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Gun Violence, SBI Rust, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:15:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28826553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace13star/pseuds/grace13star
Summary: Tommy ducks under the stairs before the other person can see him, and he struggles to control his breathing which has suddenly sped up way too much.Because the person standing in the doorway should not be standing there. He shouldn’t be alive, even.Because the person standing in the doorway is his older brother, Wilbur, who he’s almost certain was dead the day before.ORDSMP!Tommy in the SBIRust Universe, and vice versa
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), The Dome Church, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 190
Kudos: 999





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the product of conversations on the Dome Defense League Discord server where we decided that everyone deserves found family and Tommy needs therapy. 
> 
> I accept that Wilbur has decided to make the church a scam, but I decided that they should be family, and so they are now. 
> 
> Title from Rat by Penelope Scott

The place Tommy wakes up in is definitely not the place he fell asleep in. 

Gone is the small tent and the sound of crashing waves he’s grown used to at Logstedshire. Gone was the scratchy blanket, and the brisk wind that usually greeted him when he awoke. 

Instead, the blanket covering him is warm and heavy, and the pillow doesn’t cave in under his head. As his bleary eyes clear, he sees a stone roof and walls surrounding him. 

He wants nothing more than to sink back into the warmth and sleep, but he knows he should get up and figure out where the fuck he is. 

Tommy sits up and throws the blanket off, immediately missing it. He stands up too fast and staggers, but he catches himself on the wall and steadies himself. 

He’s not wearing his usual red and white shirt and brown pants. In their place is clothing of the same color, but different styles and they look a lot more worn out than his own, which is impressive, seeing how much damage his clothes have taken in the past few days. The cuffs of the jacket and pants are ragged, and patches of other fabric cover holes. But despite the wear and tear, they’re comfortable. 

There are two beds in the room, the one Tommy had been in, and another one that’s empty, the blankets smoothed down neatly. There are a few chests scattered around the room, and when he opens one, it’s filled with stone and scraps of metal. 

His stomach rumbles, and he remembers that he didn’t eat anything last night. Dream had been there, and he didn’t want to risk bringing anything out in case the masked man got any ideas. 

First objective: find out where the fuck he is. Second objective: find some food. 

He goes down the stairs to the first floor. It’s empty, and all the chests are full of stone and metal again. One of the doors has a lock on it, and he’s about to try and pick it with some of the metal scraps, but before he gets the chance, the front door lock beeps, and then it swings open. 

“Tommy!” An achingly familiar voice calls out. “Tommy, are you awake yet?”

Tommy ducks under the stairs before the other person can see him, and he struggles to control his breathing which has suddenly sped up way too much. 

Because the person standing in the doorway should not be standing there. He shouldn’t be alive, even. 

Because the person standing in the doorway is his older brother, Wilbur, who he’s almost certain was dead the day before. 

Tommy presses himself into the corner as Wilbur’s footsteps sound above him on the stairs. 

“Tommy!” The should-be-dead man calls happily again, before stopping. “Tommy?” He says again, this time a hint of concern in his voice. 

Tommy waits until the footsteps go to the opposite end of the stairs, and then makes a break for the door. He needs to get away, needs to think this through, he has to be dreaming, or maybe he’s going fucking insane, or-

The door is locked with a keypad, and a code he doesn’t know. He swears quietly, glancing between the lock and the stairs. He’s sure the maybe-Wilbur has heard his movements- it’s not a very big house, after all, so he only had a few seconds until the other person comes to check out the noise. 

“Come on, what would Wilbur put as the fucking door code?” He mutters. 

“Tommy, is that you?” Wilbur calls, and Tommy can hear him getting closer.

Panicked now, Tommy presses the first numbers that come to mind: 8008. The keypad beeps, the light flashes green, and Tommy pulls open the door and stumbles into the sunlight. 

None of the surrounding area looks familiar. It’s not Logstedshire, and it’s definitely not L’Manberg. The grass and surrounding trees look half dead and scraggly, and in the distance a giant dome rises above the horizon, blocking the sun and creating a halo affect around it. 

Tommy scans the area quickly, trying to decide which directions would be the best to run in. 

A loud sound comes from somewhere behind the house, growing louder the longer he stands there. The wind picks up, throwing dust and his hair into his eyes

A huge black shape flies overhead, and Tommy stares, trying to figure out what it is. It doesn’t look like an animal or a mob, and it looks way too heavy to be using Elytra…

A hand grabs his arm and pulls him along, just as another loud sound comes from the black shape. It reminds Tommy of fireworks, and for a second all he can see is a podium, and yellow concrete, and the red robe of someone he thought he could trust. Then the ground starts exploding around them, and he’s pulled back into the house and squeezed against someone’s chest. 

His brain blanks for a second, as the person buries their face in his hair, pressing him tightly to them and rocking softly back and forth. He tenses, but then sinks into the hug, feeling safe in the protection of the person’s arms. It’s the first time he’s been hugged in….a long time.

“Oh my Dome, are you okay?” Wilbur’s voice says from above him, sounding broken and so, so scared. “Did you get hit?”

Wilbur releases him from the hug, but keeps his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. His eyes scan Tommy’s body, looking for any indication that he’d been “hit”, whatever that means. 

Tommy is very confused, and he has no clue what is happening. But the look in his brother’s eyes is familiar, and something in his chest tugs at the sight of the unhidden fear in the older man’s eyes. 

“Uhh, no, I’m good,” he answers slowly. 

Wilbur smiles, and Tommy thinks back to L’Manberg, the era before the election, when he and Wilbur were the closest they’d ever been. He can feel tears building up, but he blinks them away. 

“You have to be more careful, Tommy,” Wilbur scolds, but Tommy can tell that he’s not that angry. “You know the helicopters patrol here this time of day.”

He definitely didn’t know that, but at least now he knows what the black things are called. “Helicopter” isn’t a word he’s heard before, and it doesn’t tell him a lot about what exactly it is, but he can talk without sounding like an idiot now. 

“Sorry, Wilbur,” he says. “I was just...I wanted to see the sun.”

Wilbur’s smile turns more confused, but he doesn’t question it. “Okay,” he says. “Once the helicopter leaves, we should head to the church, okay? The Messiah said he has something to show us.”

Tommy blinks in confusion. Multiple words in that sentence did not make any fucking sense, but if he’s playing along with this dream or whatever it is, he supposes this is what’s happening. 

“Okay,” he agrees, as if Wilbur doesn’t sound crazier than he did in Pogtopia. 

Wilbur grins, and pulls him into another hug. This time, Tommy recipricates, taking every bit of comfort he can. 

He would never admit it out loud, but he really did miss Wilbur. His older brother had practically raised him, and he’d been the one that stuck by Tommy’s side through thick and thin. And sure, Ghostbur was still around, but Tommy had trouble thinking of the shade as his brother. The ghost was too optimistic and avoided everything that would make him unhappy, and he wasn’t able to touch physical people. Wilbur had always been very affectionate, ruffling his hair, resting an elbow on his shoulder, high fives, and hugs. 

Ghostbur couldn’t do that. 

This Wilbur could. 

Tommy finds himself smiling, and for the first time in a long time, he truly feels happy. 

“Come help me bring this stone and metal downstairs, Tommy!” Wilbur said, already heading for the stairs.

He grins, and scrambles after his brother. 

“By the way, did you cut your hair? I swear it was longer yesterday.”

  
  
  


The church is a large stone building past the giant dome. Tommy doesn’t have a lot of time to look at it, as his arms are shaking from the weight of the stone he’s carrying, but he’d be hard pressed to miss the giant white sign that read “We <3 Dome!”

He remembers that Wilbur had said something about a dome earlier, and starts to put the pieces together. 

“Once we get this stuff to the tool cupboard, I’ll go raid the Dome,” Wilbur tells him as they enter the church. “The loot crates should have some good stuff in them.”

Now Tommy is confused again. There’s a church for the dome, and it sounds like it’s pretty important, if Wilbur is using it in the place of “God”, but they also raid it?

He’s broken from his line of thinking by a discordant note played on a piano. He winces, almost dropping the stone. 

“Smoke! Stop fucking around with my piano!” A voice yells. 

There’s a group gathered around the jankiest piano Tommy has ever seen. It look like it was thrown together in a junkyard, and he’s surprised it’s even able to be played. 

The guy who’d hit the chord grins. Smoke, the other guy had called him. “I’m not doing anything to your piano.”

“You’re touching it right now,” Piano guy grumbles. And it’s true, Smoke’s hands are still resting on the keys. 

“Hey, guys!” Wilbur says loudly, breaking up the argument. “Me and Tommy brought more stone!”

The girl who had been sitting on the floor next to the piano jumps up and takes some stone from Tommy’s arms. 

“Awesome,” she says. “One of the walls is starting to decay, I’ll fix that up.”

“Thanks, Sofa,” Wilbur says. Tommy almost laughs at the name, but everyone else seems to think this is a normal thing, so he stifles it quickly. 

“Hey, Tommy!” Piano guy grins. “You wanna do another duet? I’ve been practicing ‘Piano Man’ for this.”

Tommy blanks. “I don’t play instruments,” he blurts out, realizing too late that that’s the wrong thing to say. 

Everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at him, and he shifts uncomfortably at all the eyes on him. 

“Tommy...are you feeling okay?” Wilbur grabs the last of the stone in Tommy’s arms, hands it off to Smoke and leads Tommy to one of the many couches in the room. His brother’s hand goes to his forehead, and he’s reminded of when he was younger and had a fever. 

He’s got to play this off before it looks too weird. “Of course I’m fine, bitch,” he snaps, shoving Wilbur’s hand away. He laughs, loud and fake, in a way that will hopefully convince them he’s fine. “It was just a joke, Big Dubs, you don’t have to be so uptight.” 

His brother smiles, but it’s strained and Tommy knows he’s fucked up. “Okay, Tommy, I’m sorry. I was just worried, is all.”

“It’s fine, Big Man,” he says. 

“So does that mean no duet?” Piano man asks, breaking the tension. 

“Not right now,” Wilbur says. “We left the guitar back at home.”

Oh shit. Whoever this other Tommy is that he’s taken the place of can play guitar, a skill this Tommy is decidedly lacking in. His Wilbur had attempted to teach him when they were younger, but Tommy had always been too squirmy to listen to the lessons. At best he could strum a chord, but he feels like he’d need a bit more than that to do a ‘Piano Man’ duet, whatever ‘Piano Man’ was. 

Wilbur clapped his hands. “Okay! Game plan for today. I’m gonna go on a run to the Dome, and get the loot crates. Does anyone know where Pebble and Lake Boy are?” 

“They went on a food run,” Smoke answers, and Tommy is suddenly reminded of how hungry he is. “They should be back soon, as long as they don’t run into Fort Kickass.”

Everyone other than Tommy winces and mutter some curses about “Fort Kickass”. 

“Okay. That’s good, we were running low on food.” Wilbur continues. “What’s our status on weapons?”

Tommy tunes out the rest of the discussion, going over the information he knows, trying to orient himself to this strange new reality. 

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Wilbur watching him with a strange look on his face. 

  
  
  
  


_ Tommy’s first instinct when he wakes up is to grab his gun.  _

_ He’s learned to wake up quickly, and as soon as he does, he knows something’s not right. The blanket is too scratchy, there’s the sound of waves, and his back hurts from whatever god-awful mattress is on this bed.  _

_ He’s on his feet in less than a second, hand shooting towards his hip, where his gun usually hangs, only to be met with nothing.  _

_ “What the fuck,” he mutters.  _

_ His eyes shoot up, and he scans the area quickly, taking in everything. There’s a strange wooden building over in the distance, but other than that there’s hardly any cover. The plantlife looks a lot less dead than usual, so this must be an area with less radiation- it’s far away from any monuments, that’s for sure. There’s a strange black construction with glowing purple...something inside of it.  _

_ He finds a sword in a chest near the bed, and brings it with him. He’s not as skilled with a sword as he with a gun, but he’s no slouch. Wilbur had made sure of that. And any weapon is better than being completely defenseless.  _

_ He ventures outside of the tent, ears open for any sound of gunshots or helicopters.  _

_ Tommy stays away from the purple substance, hoping there’s no radiation- he doesn’t have his hazmat suit, he’d lent it to Pebble yesterday so the other man could go on a food run. _

_ He searches the wooden structure and finds it extremely easy to get into. There’s not even a door, let alone a lock, and he just walks straight in. Whoever’s kidnapped him is either an idiot or extremely powerful. Neither option sounded appealing.  _

_ “Tommy?” A voice comes from behind him.  _

_ He spins around, raising the sword, to find a man wearing a green hoodie with a mask covering his face. The mask shows only a black smiley face, and Tommy knows it’s not real, but it unnerves him anyways.  _

_ “Tommy, calm down,” the man says. “It’s just me.” _

_ “Who the fuck are you?” Tommy snaps, keeping the sword raised. “Why do you know my name?” _

_ The mask tilts to the side in a way that reminds Tommy way too much of Wilbur. “Tommy, I’m your friend. You forgot me?” _

_ “Listen, bitch, I’ve never seen your stupid smiling mask before in my life. Now where the fuck am I?” _

_ The man takes a step forward, but Tommy stands his ground. “Do you remember my name at least? Dream? Do you remember Tubbo? Wilbur?” _

_ Tommy tenses at the names. “Never heard of a Dream. Are you part of Fort Kickass, then? That’s the only Tubbo I know.” He purposefully doesn’t mention Wilbur. Most people don’t know of their relation, and the brothers wanted to keep it that way.  _

_ Dream seems to falter a bit at that. “I...Fort Kickass? Tommy, I’m actually very confused here.” _

_ “How do you think I feel?” Tommy retorts.  _

_ “Is this some sort of ploy to get back into L’Manberg?” Dream asks. “Tommy, I’m not stupid.” _

_ “You could’ve fooled me,” he scoffs. “What the fuck is a L’Manberg?” _

_Dream shifts his weight between his feet, and Tommy thinks that things are about to get a lot more complicated._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tommy's discover new things about their new situations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am back at it with another chapter! 
> 
> This is probably the fastest this fic is getting updated, but rest assured I am very excited to continue this. The response to the first chapter was absolutely amazing, you all are so awesome. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

_ Dream, for some reason, thinks that Tommy is faking amnesia as some ploy to get back to some place called “L’Manberg.” In this world, he’s been exiled from there for some reason, and Dream is acting as his guard for the duration of the exile, which is, in the masked man’s words, “indefinite.” _

_ He keeps going on about Tommy forgetting things and trying to escape, but Tommy tunes him out. He’s got more important things to deal with than a man wearing bright green clothing. He interjects every once in a while with a “hmm” or “yeah” so the other man thinks he’s still paying attention. _

_ He takes a minute, now that he knows he’s not in immediate danger, to look around a bit more thoroughly. Whereas before he was looking for threats, now he’s looking for things he can use.  _

_ One of the chests has a bow and arrow in it. It’s wooden, and a lot less sturdy than the ones Tommy is used to using, but it’ll do in a pinch. There’s a strange shimmery look to the wood, but it doesn’t feel weird or cause his fingers to fall off, so he deems it unimportant.  _

_ Another chest has building materials, which he ignores, and another has stacks of food. This one he pauses on, almost mesmerized by the sheer amount there is. This one chest could feed the Church for months, maybe up to a year if they rationed enough. He’s never seen this amount of food before, and when Dream isn’t looking, he squirrels as much as he can into his pockets.  _

_ He hopes he can bring some back to Wilbur and the rest when he gets out of here.  _

_ Tommy finds some scraps of metal, though they are a lot smoother than the scrap he’s used to dealing with. They’re in brick forms, and show no signs of rusting or even being old. They look freshly dug up.  _

_ He grabs some of that, and then turns his attention back to whatever Dream’s saying. Meanwhile, behind his back, he starts crafting the metal into a pistol, the way Wilbur taught him.  _

_ “I’ll try to bring Fundy or Quackity over at some point,” Dream is saying. “Tubbo’s much too busy right now, with being president and all. If you’ve actually lost your memory, maybe they’ll help jog it a bit.” _

_ Tommy has never heard of these people in his life. “Yeah, sure.” _

_ “I’ll be sure to inform L’Manberg of your amnesia, I’m sure they’ll come to visit if they hear about it. I mean, they’re your friends, aren’t they?”  _

_ “Are you trying to manipulate me with friends I’ve never met before?” Tommy asks incredulously. “I don’t give a shit if they visit or not, I don’t know who they are.” _

_ Dream sighs as if Tommy has disappointed him. “I’ll be sure to let them know that, then.” _

_ He turns to leave, but Tommy speaks up. As much as he doesn’t like the other man, it would be nice to have some answers.  _

_ “Wait. You mentioned Tubbo and Wilbur. Those are names I recognize. Tell me about them.” _

_ Dream is facing away from him in such a way that Tommy can see the side of his face where the mask doesn’t cover. At the question, his lips pull up in a smile. “Tubbo is your best friend...well, ex-best friend. He’s president of L’Manberg, and he’s the one who exiled you.” _

_ Tommy frowns. He definitely is  _ not  _ best friends with the cannibal kid, and again, he’s never even heard of L’Manberg, much less been exiled from there.  _

_ “And Wilbur’s your brother,” Dream continues.  _

_ At that, Tommy hides how shocked he is that the other man knows this. He and Wilbur had learned the hard way that having people know their relationship ended badly, after Tommy had been held at gunpoint in order to force Wilbur to give some faction all their stuff. They’d still shot Tommy anyways, and Wilbur after. They hadn’t told anyone else their relationship, until the Church.  _

_ “He hasn’t been around much, but maybe he’ll visit you again soon.” Dream says encouragingly.  _

_ Tommy is honestly left with more questions than before, but he doesn’t stop the masked man as he walks towards the black and purple thing.  _

_ To Tommy’s surprise, Dream steps into the purple mist, and after a few seconds, disappears.  _

_ “Woah, what the fuck?” he yells in shock, running towards it. He forgets all about a hazmat suit or anything, and he steps into it, following Dream.  _

_ Immediately, he is hit with nausea like he’s never felt before. It’s worse than the radiation poisoning he’d gotten once when he went too close to the Dome without any protective clothing. His vision swims, and he loses his bearings, falling to his knees.  _

_ The ground he hits is not the grass he had stepped off before. Instead, this is some sort of red stone that’s hot to the touch. He lays his head on it, as he struggles to catch his breath.  _

_ Finally, he sits up and scans the area, only to stop and stare in horror.  _

_ Instead of hills and ocean, he’s staring at a sea of lava and fire, and the red stone as far as he can see. There are waterfalls of the stuff everywhere, and the heat is suffocating, hitting his face with almost a physical force.  _

_ Tommy screams.  _

  
  
  


The Dome is a God, apparently. 

Tommy’s been putting some things together through asking really subtle questions to the members of the church, and listening into their conversations. 

What he has so far is: The Dome is a God that attacks them unless they worship it and give it stuff. Wilbur is the spearhead of this weird religion, which is pretty in character for the man. Always a leader, even if he is leading a weird Dome Cult. Apparently though, Tommy is also a spearhead for it, forming it by Wilbur’s side, just like L’Manberg. The Dome Cult is enemies with a place called Fort Kickass. He doesn’t have much information about the fort, just that they’re constantly attacking members of the Church, and they call the Dome a sphere, which pisses everyone off very much. 

“Hycei was spotted up near H2,” Lake Boy reports, when he returns from the food run with Pebble. “Few stragglers had a run in with him and told us. No sign of the others.”

The two have brought back tuna cans and pig meat, which Wilbur puts on the fire to cook. Pebble also triumphantly holds up a packet of seeds. There’s no label, and Pebble has no clue what they are, but everyone is excited at the prospect of food that isn’t meat. 

“It’s getting dark now,” Wilbur says, beaming. “We’ll start setting up a farm tomorrow. This is an amazing find, Pebble.”

“I can help with that,” Tommy offers. 

Wilbur grins at him, and Pebble passes the seed packet to him, “for safekeeping.”

Soon they’re all gathered around the piano as Piano Man, or Buck, as Tommy has learned his name is, plays a ballad that everyone sings along to. Tommy learns the chorus and sings it at the top of his lungs with everyone when it comes up. Smoke pulls out a cowbell and bangs it with glee, trying to stick to the beat and often failing. Wilbur has a tambourine, and shakes it a few times, before passing it to Tommy. 

“This is for you, Wilbur!” Buck crows, before starting a new one that causes Wilbur to tear up. Tommy is worried for a second, but the smile never leaves his brother’s face, and he realizes that they’re happy tears. 

“You learned my song on the piano?” Wilbur asks happily.

Tommy grins as he realizes what’s happening. His Wilbur had always loved writing music but had to stop because of L’Manberg and...everything that happened with that. The fact that these people heard Wilbur’s music and loved it enough to make their own version would mean the world to his brother, and looking at his shining eyes and huge grin, Tommy can tell it does. 

He can’t remember the last time he’s seen this expression on Wilbur’s face. 

Wilbur pulls him into a side-hug, and simply holds him there. They sway in time to the music, Tommy’s foot tapping along with the tambourine. The other members of the church sing the lyrics. 

Tommy had no clue who most of these people were just a few hours before, but he feels as if he’s known them for ages. Despite his slip up earlier, they’ve all treated him so warmly. He hasn’t talked to this many people in ages, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. With every conversation, the tight feeling in his chest that’s been there since that fateful day on the obsidian wall lessens just a little bit. 

As Buck starts on another song, Wilbur pulls away from the side-hug. Tommy finds himself leaning after the taller man, desperate for the physical contact, before he catches himself. 

Wilbur smiles softly, and motions for Tommy to follow him. They leave the group, and Wilbur leads Tommy up a set of spiral stairs to the top of the steeple. 

The roof is held up by wooden rods, leaving an amazing view of the Dome on one side, and the lake on the other. 

Wilbur sits on the floor, his legs dangling over the side. He pats the ground next to him, inviting Tommy to sit next to him. 

Tommy sits, and immediately tilts his head back to look at the sky. It’s a cloudy night, so most of the stars are covered, but every once in a while the clouds part and he spots the tiny pinpricks of light. 

“Tommy…” Wilbur starts to speak, before cutting himself off. He kicks his legs into a swinging motion, leaning back and looking up to the sky. 

“What’s up, big man?” Tommy asks. He keeps his face pointed up but looks at Wilbur’s face out of the corner of his eye. 

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Wilbur says, after a few more seconds of silence. “I’m always here for you.”

Flashes of a ravine, fire, and waving hands run through Tommy’s mind. He remembers TNT, raving words, “let’s be the bad guys.” He remembers a hand holding him back, a hand waving good bye, a bloody sword. 

“Yeah, big man,” he says quietly. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mayhaps next chapter we will get different perspectives? What do y'all think? :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur smiles at his brother’s excitement. He’s still a bit confused as to where this love of farming came from, but if it puts that smile on his face, he’ll gladly let him do it all day. 
> 
> “That’s smart,” he says. “Do you have any idea what the seeds are? So we don’t accidentally kill it or something.”
> 
> Tommy’s face lights up, and he starts explaining a few different plants it could be, but then he stops in the middle of his sentence. 
> 
> “Sorry, this is probably boring. You don’t have to listen to me,” he says, ducking his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from little lion man by mumford and sons
> 
> welcome to a new chapter! this one is from rust!wilbur's perspective, so it's a bit different than the usual tommy thought process. i really enjoyed writing wilbur's pov though, because it allowed me to add in some background for the world and specifically the brothers' relationship. also, only one tommy for this chapter, but next chapter we'll check in on how the dsmp is doing :)
> 
> enjoy!

Wilbur first met Tommy when he was 16, and the kid was 8. 

He’d been distrustful at first, flinching and snapping at Wilbur’s every movement, but as a few weeks passed and nothing majorly traumatizing happened, they started to grow closer. 

It had taken a few months before Tommy had first called him his brother, an incident that left the younger boy red-faced and stammering as Wilbur ruffled his hair and definitely did not blink back tears. 

He and Tommy had been side by side for 8 years, and in that 8 years, they had gotten as close as people could get. 

So if Tommy expected Wilbur to not realize something was wrong, he had a big storm coming. 

Little things seemed to confuse him, things that Tommy would usually know without even thinking. The helicopter incident the day before had been the first clue. Even before Wilbur had gotten in the house, he’d heard the propellers, meaning Tommy definitely should have heard them. Yet he ran out the door anyways. And then in the church, when he claimed he didn’t play an instrument, his eyes lacked the usual spark of mischief he had when he was playing a prank, and instead he looked genuinely confused as to why Buck was asking him to play a duet. 

And when he immediately went for a sword instead of a gun as he left the house, Wilbur knows something is seriously messed up. 

Both of them were far more comfortable with guns than swords and knives, and guns were far safer for taking out enemies, given the range. In this world, going out without a gun could be as deadly as the radiation at monuments. 

“Tommy, why aren’t you taking a gun?” He asks cautiously. 

Fear flashes across his brother’s face, before he smooths his expression out. 

“Uhh, just wanted to take a sword, Big Man.” Tommy says. He holds the sword with practiced ease, far better than he should have. 

“Well take a gun too, then,” he said, forcing down the automatic panic that comes from that thought of Tommy in a fight without a gun. “Just...don’t get into anything you can’t get out of, yeah?”

Tommy’s face softens, and Wilbur hopes he doesn’t look too scared. “Sure, Wilbur,” he says. “I’ll be careful.”

He watches his brother walk off, and pointedly doesn’t think of another time, a before time.  ~~ Another figure, a family member, holding a sword, back facing Wilbur. He’d walked off and never returned.  ~~

He goes to check on Tommy a few hours later. 

He’d never expected his loud, energetic brother to enjoy gardening, but he finds Tommy, uncharacteristically quiet, gently patting down the soil over seeds he’s just placed. He’s smiling down at them softly, humming a short tune. 

He looks peaceful and relaxed, in a way that makes Wilbur’s heart ache. The smile on his face is usually reserved for late nights when they’re curled under blankets in the same bed telling stories to each other and to the moon, for after respawns when one wakes up to find the other waiting anxiously, for when they’re sitting in the steeple of the church, and Tommy is making up constellations and their stories. 

But then Tommy looks up, and the smile immediately falls away. It’s quickly replaced by his usual shit-eating grin, but something in Wilbur’s chest wilts. 

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims. “I’m almost finished with the farm!”

It’s an impressive farm, for the few seeds Pebble managed to find. Tommy has set up some wooden fences around a large perimeter, and there are little stakes in the ground that show where each seed is.

“It looks really good, Toms,” Wilbur praises. “How come it’s so big?”

“I figured if we get any more seeds, then we won’t need to expand, we’ll already have the space,” Tommy says. 

Wilbur smiles at his brother’s excitement. He’s still a bit confused as to where this love of farming came from, but if it puts that smile on his face, he’ll gladly let him do it all day. 

“That’s smart,” he says. “Do you have any idea what the seeds are? So we don’t accidentally kill it or something.”

Tommy’s face lights up, and he starts explaining a few different plants it could be, but then he stops in the middle of his sentence. 

“Sorry, this is probably boring. You don’t have to listen to me,” he says, ducking his head. 

Wilbur’s smile grows strained. ~~Another thing wrong.~~ “Aw, c’mon, Tommy, you know I love to hear you talk about stuff. Seriously, I know you said yesterday that you were fine, but are you feeling okay?”

He goes to feel Tommy’s forehead again, but pulls back when his brother flinches away from him. 

He’s immediately reminded of when he first met the boy, when they both were too skinny, too scared, and too alone  ~~ scared ~~ to trust anyone else. 

Tommy must see the hurt in his eyes, because he starts apologizing immediately, but his words are panicked, and start to run over each other, and his breathing speeds up until he’s hyperventilating. 

Out of instinct, Wilbur goes to grab his shoulder, but Tommy jumps backwards. His eyes are wide, pupils blown open, and unseeing. He looks at Wilbur, but he can tell that the younger boy isn’t seeing him, not really. 

“I’m sorry, Dream,” he rambles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,”

“Tommy-” he starts, but Tommy cuts him off again. 

“I’m sorry!” he cries. He takes the sword out of the sheath at his side, and throws it on the ground. “Take it, take it, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Tommy!” Wilbur yells. His heart is beating quickly, and he can feel tears picking at his eyes, but his brother needs him, he can’t panic now.  ~~ He can’t panic, he can’t, he has to focus- ~~ “Tommy, it’s okay! Do you know who I am?”

Tommy stops. His breathing is still too fast, and his hands are shaking, but his eyes are a bit more present. 

“D-Dream?” he asks. His face scrunches up as if he can tell that something about that sentence isn’t right, and Wilbur takes that as a good sign. He has no idea who Dream is, but he’s already pissed at this person for causing this reaction. 

“Tommy, it’s Wilbur.” His voice is softer now that Tommy isn’t talking over him, and he takes a cautious step forwards, encouraged when it doesn’t trigger another flinch. “You remember? Wilby? Your brother?”

Tommy’s eyes clear more, and he meets Wilbur’s gaze for a second before he looks away. “My brother,” he repeats, almost as if he doesn’t believe it. 

“That’s right,” Wilbur whispers. He’s close enough to touch Tommy now, but he doesn’t want to frighten the boy again. “I don’t want your stuff, Tommy. I need you to calm down, now.”

Tommy’s breath hitches, and Wilbur braces himself for another flinch, but instead finds himself with an armful of his brother. 

The boy’s hair tickles his cheek from where his head is buried in Wilbur’s shoulder, and his hands clench the fabric of Wilbur’s jacket tightly. 

Wilbur’s arms automatically come up to surround Tommy. He can feel a wet spot growing on his shoulder, but he ignores it as he hugs Tommy tightly, as if he were going to disappear. 

They sink to the ground, and he lets the boy cry,  ~~ and definitely doesn’t cry a bit himself ~~ , even as his knees grow numb, and he can tell his joints will be aching when he goes to stand up, but he can’t bring himself to care.  ~~ The radiation has been causing that already. ~~

After what could have been seconds or hours, Tommy stills. Wilbur can tell from the soft breathing on his neck that his brother is sleeping, so he shifts him carefully in an effort not to wake him, and carries him into the house they built together. 

He lays Tommy down gently in his bed, pulling the covers around his form tightly, and starts off to do a perimeter check. 

Before he can leave, a hand grasps his sleeve, and he looks down into Tommy’s sleep dazed eyes. 

“Wil,” Tommy whispers. His voice is hoarse, and Wilbur makes a note to get him some water in the morning. 

“What’s up, Tommy?” he whispers back. 

“Can-can I talk to you? I need to-need to tell you something.”

Tommy looks more awake now, and the anxiety from before is on his face again. Wilbur shushes him, and pulls the blankets back around him. “Anytime, Tommy,” he tells his brother. “But right now you need your rest. We can talk tomorrow, okay? It’s past your bedtime.”

“I’m not a child,” Tommy grumbles, still sounding tired, but with a familiar humor to his voice. “But...thanks. For today. I’m sorry-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Wilbur says. “You don’t need to apologize. If you want to explain, then do it tomorrow, but never apologize. Okay?”

Tommy stays silent, but Wilbur can see him nod in the dim light. 

“I love you, Tommy,” he whispers. 

Tommy doesn’t say it back, but Wilbur leaves with the image of the boy’s soft smile that he had fallen asleep with. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BadBoyHalo whispers to you: Come to Logstedshire. It’s Tommy.
> 
> He gets up immediately, already running to the community portal. He knows he should tell someone he’s leaving, but he’s not thinking logically, and isn’t that ironic, that’s why he exiled Tommy in the first place, isn’t it?
> 
> He knows the way too well. He’s made this trek many times, always losing courage once he reaches the other portal. He’s never able to bring himself to step through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f in the chat for church dome
> 
> chapter warnings: there is some talking about death, and there is a death and a bit of a description of the body, but it's a Minecraft death with respawning, and nothing too graphic. stay safe, guys!

Tubbo is starting to understand why Wilbur used to cry every night of his presidency. 

Wilbur had always put on a brave face and accepted his tasks with a smile, only to let out his emotion when he was alone, never in front of anyone else. Tubbo is finding it harder and harder to keep his feelings bottled up, when every moment seems to bring more. 

Especially since the exile. 

He can’t even go to his happy place, the bench on the hill, without thinking about what he’s done to his best friend. He stares at the stars, steadfastly ignoring the jukebox just in his peripheral, and wonders if Tommy is looking up too. 

He regrets exiling Tommy. He regrets it so much it hurts sometimes, but it’s too late to turn back now. He has to live with his choice. He wants to visit, even though he isn’t sure if his best friend will want to see him. 

Are they even best friends anymore?

Probably not. 

Tubbo is at the bench when he gets a whisper from Bad Boy Halo. 

He’s tried to stay out of the Badlands’ way so as not to upset them in any way, so he’s confused as to why Bad is contacting him. He braces himself for political trouble. 

But then he sees Tommy’s name, and all his confusion disappears, replaced with fear. 

_ BadBoyHalo whispers to you: Come to Logstedshire. It’s Tommy. _

He gets up immediately, already running to the community portal. He knows he should tell someone he’s leaving, but he’s not thinking logically, and isn’t that ironic, that’s why he exiled Tommy in the first place, isn’t it?

He knows the way too well. He’s made this trek many times, always losing courage once he reaches the other portal. He’s never able to bring himself to step through. 

This time, he barely hesitates before entering, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Tubbo has been imagining so many horrible things that could have happened that would result in Bad’s message. He thinks of Tommy being hurt, of Tommy fighting, of Tommy dying. He thinks of a time when he would have been by Tommy’s side. 

What he doesn’t expect to see is Tommy pointing some kind of metal thing at Dream and Bad. 

“Tommy-” Bad tries to say, only to be cut off. 

“Fuck off,” Tommy snarls. His lip is curled into a sneer, and he looks...well, the best word Tubbo could use is feral. He looks like a wild animal protecting his territory. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“What do you mean, Tommy?” Dream asks, exasperated. While Bad looks nervous, Dream’s body language screams that he’s annoyed at being here. “It’s just the Nether.”

Tubbo is so very confused, but his best friend is in distress, he can’t just keep watching from a distance. He comes forward slowly, trying to ignore the drumline in his chest. 

Tommy sees him first, and the metal thing is pointed in his direction. There’s recognition in Tommy’s eyes, but Tubbo can see the fear there too. Fear that’s pointed in his direction. Fear of him. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tommy snaps, and Tubbo’s heart drops. Of course Tommy wouldn’t want to see him, of course he’d be angry, this was a mistake, he shouldn’t have come here. 

“Bad-he said something was wrong,” he stammers, trying not to shy away. “I wanted to check on you.”

Tommy’s face scrunches up. “What? Why would you care.”

Tubbo wants to claim that that’s unfair, but he remembers how he turned away from Tommy’s on top of the wall, how he listened to his friend’s struggles and didn’t even look at him as he was dragged away by Dream. 

“Tommy-” he starts, taking a step forward. Suddenly the metal thing is in his face, and he tries not to think of another time when someone pointed something at him, when he was just as boxed in as he feels now. 

“Tubbo,” Dream starts. His fingers are twitching at his side, and his voice is strained, and that scares Tubbo more than the memory of the podium. “Tommy is claiming to not remember a lot of things. Including me, Bad, and the Nether. And L’Manberg.”

“Like...Like Ghostbur? Is he-” 

Tommy doesn’t look like a ghost, his skin isn’t greyscale, his eyes are still the same vibrant blue, nothing like the blank white of the only ghost Tubbo has ever seen. Maybe it’s more like Ranboo, then, but no one really knows what’s happening with him.

“No,” Bad says. “No like that.”

He’s relieved to have the confirmation, but he’s forcefully reminded of how vulnerable Tommy is right now, how vulnerable they both are. They’re both only on one life, and one small mistake could mean the end. 

“What the fuck is a Ghostbur and why would I be like it?” Tommy snaps. 

Tubbo exchanges a glance with Bad, both of them wincing. No one wants to be the one to tell Tommy that his brother is dead. 

“I’ll tell you in a bit,” Tubbo says, and forces a smile. “Uhh, so Dream said you can’t remember him, but do you remember me?”

“Of fucking course I do,” Tommy says, and for a second, Tubbo’s heart lifts, because at least he’s remembered, but then Tommy continues, “and I want you to get the fuck away from me.”

Tubbo stumbles back, barely feeling the tears pricking at his eyes. “Tommy-”

“What, are Krinios and Hycei somewhere nearby?” Tommy says, and this stops Tubbo in his tracks. “Is this some kind of sick prank you’re playing before you kill me?”

“What?” Tubbo asks, incredulously. His tears have stopped out of sheer confusion, though he can still feel the tracks where they fell. “Who are Krinios and Hycei?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Tommy says. He’s putting up a front, but Tubbo knows him well enough to hear the shake he’s hiding in his voice, the bravado he’s putting up because he’s scared, Tubbo is scaring him, the thought of those people are _ scaring him-  _

“Why do you think I’m going to kill you?” Tubbo asks gently. He raises his hands as if trying to settle a frightened horse- empty and in front of him, showing he has no weapons, nothing he can hurt Tommy with. 

The other boy falters, the metal thing lowering slightly. “Well, that’s what you do, innit?” He says, but the shake in his voice is more apparent now. “You and Fort Kickass, that’s all you do.”

“Fort Kickass?” Bad asks. 

“Tommy, what are you talking about?” Tubbo asks desperately, trying to think of some code or message his  ~~ ex ~~ best friend could be trying to convey. 

“What are  _ you  _ talking about?” Tommy fires back. 

And then it happens. 

Dream steps towards Tommy, hand raised as if going to grab his arm. He barely gets close before Tommy flinches back, and the metal thing in his hand goes off in a puff of smoke and a loud bang that echoes around them in a way that’s too reminiscent of a firework for Tubbo’s taste. 

Everyone watches in shock as Dream falls to the ground, his famous mask now adorned with a hole straight through, continuing through the flesh behind it. 

Dream’s body dissolves in a puff of smoke, leaving his things laying on the ground. 

“What the fuck?” Tommy screeches, staring in horror at the items. “Where’d his body go?”

Tubbo ears are still ringing from the bang, and the memory of the festival and what he’s just witnessed send him to his knees in the grass. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m...not from here.” He starts, still looking at his hands and not Wilbur. 
> 
> Wilbur makes a confused noise. “Yeah, neither of us are. we built this house together?”
> 
> “No, I mean…” Tommy isn’t even sure how to describe this. “I’m not from the world, or maybe even this dimension. I’m-I’m not entirely sure what’s happening, or where I am, but I’m not your Tommy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO EVERYONE I MISS WILBUR SOOT HERE IS A CHAPTER FOR YOU <3
> 
> seriously though, thank you guys so much for your comments, everyone's been so supportive and I love reading them, even if they're jokes or just a few words. you guys are what keep me motivated to keep writing this so thank you all so much.

Tommy wakes up groggy and embarrassed. 

He’s a bit fuzzy from the panic, but he can remember confusing Wilbur with Dream, of breaking down and panicking. He remembers being carried to bed by Wilbur, of clinging to him like he used to when he was small, feeling safe for the first time in a long time. 

He remembers a whispered “I love you,” and tries not to cry. 

The sun is coming through the window straight onto his face, so he finally bites the bullet and sits up. The bed across the room is made, and Wilbur is nowhere in sight, a fact that Tommy is only slightly glad about. He misses the comfort his brother gives him, not that he would ever admit that out loud, but he definitely does not want to tell Wilbur about everything. 

He realizes that his throat is scratchy, probably from all the crying last night. 

The front door opens, and Wilbur’s voice calls out a cheerful, “Tommy!”

“Hey, Wil,” he responds, wincing at the roughness of his voice. 

Wilbur comes up the stairs and tosses him a water bottle. “For your throat,” he says. “And I got something special for breakfast!” He pulls out a loaf of bread from the bag on his side, presenting it like it’s a diamond. “Can you believe this? I traded for it with some travelers, and they only wanted a few pieces of scrap for it. They must have a wheat farm somewhere.”

Tommy drinks the water bottle, watching his brother ramble. He’s doing that thing where he isn’t even paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth, just trying to fill the air so it’s not so silent- it’s something his Wilbur did all the time. 

He’s handed a piece of bread before Wilbur settles on the bed near him, propping a pillow against the wall and getting comfortable. 

They sit together, Wilbur talking about whatever comes to mind as they eat the bread, and though it feels safe, Tommy can feel the tension ramping up. 

Finally, Wilbur finished some story about a bird he saw on the Dome, and he sits up. There’s silence for a few seconds, like he’s trying to think of something to say. 

“Last night you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” He finally says, and Tommy’s throat tightens. 

He takes a deep breath, looking down at his hands in his lap. They’re shaking, so he focuses on stilling them. It takes a minute, and even then there are still some tremors every once in a while. 

“I’m...not from here.” He starts, still looking at his hands and not Wilbur. 

Wilbur makes a confused noise. “Yeah, neither of us are. we built this house together?”

“No, I mean…” Tommy isn’t even sure how to describe this. “I’m not from the world, or maybe even this dimension. I’m-I’m not entirely sure what’s happening, or where I am, but I’m not your Tommy.”

He finally braves a lookup, and is met with utter confusion on Wilbur’s face. 

“Tommy, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” His brother asks, brushing the hair off of his forehead. “Really, this sounds-”

“I know it sounds crazy,” he interrupts, batting Wilbur’s hand away, “but seriously. I have no idea what the Dome is, I didn’t know what a helicopter was and, being honest, I still don’t, and I have no clue how guns work! And-and it's not memory loss or anything, because I remember a whole different life, a different world where we use swords, and there are these monsters, and we built a city there!” Now that Tommy has started talking, he can’t stop. The words spill out of his mouth like a torrent, and he squeezes his eyes shut from the force of it. “We built a city, and then we got exiled from that city, and you blew it up, and then you died. You died, Wilbur, and then my best friend exiled me, and Dream blew up my things, and then suddenly I’m here, and you’re not dead, and Dream isn’t here-”

“Hey!” Wilbur grabs his hands, from where they’ve come up to scratch his arms. He grips Tommy’s hands in his, but Tommy doesn’t feel constrained by the motion. Wilbur’s thumbs rub circles on the back of his hands, and he starts to breathe again. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped. “It’s okay, Tommy,” Wilbur whispers, voice calm. 

Wilbur is definitely not calm, Tommy can see that in his eyes, but he’s keeping it together for Tommy’s sake, so he tries to get himself together for Wilbur’s sake. 

“So, let me get this straight,” Wilbur says, his voice shaking. “You’re from a different world where things aren’t the same, and somehow you’ve, what, jumped dimensions?”

“I don’t know,” 

“But you’re not...my Tommy? What happened to my Tommy then?”

Tommy winces. “I don’t know that either. He could be back in my world, or he could be-” he cuts himself off before the thought finishes, seeing how Wilbur’s face pales. “He’s probably in my world.”

Wilbur’s face softens, and he releases Tommy’s hands. “Can I give you a hug?” He asks. “I really don’t understand...any of this, although it does make a shocking amount of sense, somehow, and I know I’m not your Wilbur, but you look like you really need one.”

Tommy almost bursts into tears at that, but he manages to keep the tears in until he’s pulled into Wilbur’s embrace, his face buried in a coat that smells so similar to how his brother smelled before the gunpowder and dust of Pogtopia. 

They stay there for a minute, and Tommy realizes that he’s been hugged more over the past day than he has been in months. He holds Wilbur a little tighter after that thought. 

The sun is blocked by a cloud, chilling the surrounding air just a bit, but Tommy can’t help feel anything but warm. 

He finally pulls away, trying to subtly wipe his eyes. He knows Wilbur sees but looks away, pretending not to notice, which he appreciates. 

“Enough of this sad shit,” Tommy says, forcing some bravado into his voice. “If I cry anymore today, I’m gonna start stabbing shit.”

Wilbur laughs at that, a short bark that seems surprised and amused all at once. “I guess the Tommy’s aren’t so different after all,” he jokes. 

Tommy pushes him off the bed. 

  
  
  


_Tommy is sure that at this point, the day cannot get any weirder._

_“What the fuck?” he gasps, looking between the two people remaining. One, a complete stranger, and the other a potential enemy, who seems to not remember the “being enemies” part of their relationship._

_“Tommy, what the fuck is that?” Tubbo asks, voice high-pitched in fear. “What the fuck?”_

_“I just shot him, why did his body disappear?” Tommy can hear his own voice getting higher to match. “Where did it go?”_

_“Bodies always disappear!” The other guys said. He’d been the first person to show up after Dream had dragged Tommy out of that hell-scape he’d fallen into. Dream had called him Bad, and Tommy isn’t sure if that’s his name or just a comment on his character._

_“No they don’t? That’s not how bodies work!”_

_“That’s how they’ve always worked!” Tubbo responds._

_Tommy drops the gun, now broken from the force of the shot. It held up better than he had thought it would, honestly. It was barely a gun, so the fact that it shot that accurately is something to be celebrated. He’ll have to craft another one, a better one, soon._

_“That is very much not how they’ve always worked. You would know, it’s your whole thing, eating bodies left behind?”_

_“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tubbo asks, his face now ashen and grey._

_“You, Hycei, and Krinios, that’s your thing! Cannibalism and shit.”_

_“That is not my thing and I still don’t know who those people are!”_

_“You literally attacked us last week.”_

_“I haven’t seen you in months, what are you on about?”_

_“You’re our enemies! You hate us!”_

_“I could never hate you, Tommy!”_

_The final shout lingers in the air for a second, and both boys stare at each other and let them sink in._

_Tommy laughs humorlessly. “What the fuck.” he says._

_Tubbo laughs as well, though his is breathless and sad. “What the fuck,” he agrees._


End file.
